A pattern in dance to a soliloquy
Yet like into the past lost in senility
Caught in an impulse of rigidity
Waiting to see your inner epitome
Can you see the fertility abound 
Can you see the reflection in Venus' mound
Do you feel the words spoken are pretend
Do you hear the thoughts they hide within
Feel the fire to breathe the ashes
Burn to reveal those darker passions
Do not cry for the souls that never weep
Clench your heart as the world crumbles beneath your feet
Because while most things in life come from a dream
It's the things we see when awake that make us scream!

Set adrift on a sea of sweetness
Wondering how it could be so featless

Dried up from a lack of water flowing in
The steam is gone the sweet cannot be filled again

The water becomes stagnant and blown away by reciprocity
Always acting on the verge of animosity

Thought it best to leave, now returning for a quick drink
But the water is no longer flowing, it is not what you think

A kindness taken as a weakness, merely words saw as deceit
Sweet compliments seen as advances to meet
Were little more then sweet words, only meant to lift you off your feet!

Why do you shine
So deafeningly bright
Do you even know
You are the source that lit a night
As lunar tines shoot hopelessly
Through endless hovering halos
Wishing only for your luminousity
Until the twilight finally goes
Away, only to be crushed
By the realization of the day
Still thoughts of lunar light
Fills visions that I crave
Yet merely highly inspired
Like by a sunset's last array
When I look at a woman's body...
I....
Uh.....
Forget what I was gonna say?

How I adore your nerve
when you kissed me in your closet upon sheets made of legos
and all of your childhood dreams.
How easy I am for you to draw when you play on stage the song that you wrote me,
The one that feels like rock climbing by the river,
Like naps in the summer when I drool on your chest and you don't mind,
Like kissing you until the very last minute of my curfew,
only to break it for the miracle that is your lips.
How alluring is your breath on my neck,
Your voice in my ear when you told me that you loved me
and you didn't stop smiling,
even as the years went by and I did.
How I craved, longed, begged for time to be still
the time you took me to the highest hill you could drive to,
You called it my mountain.
"At first, you look at it and it's so small,
but once you notice it, it's all you can see," you said.
How my stomach floods with waves of nostalgia and a taste
of everything I've ever had to live without,
With complete and utter spell-binded devotion at the simple familiarity
of your smell.
How addicted I am to your laugh when you're happy and
the mastered impression you do of your mom.
How weak I am to your intellect and your appreciation of literature
and real music,
Your enthusiasm for art and the "name that note" game you force upon me
as you stumble onto the classical radio station.
How in love I am with your romance that is as childish as my attachment
to my baby blankie and my mother's childhood walrus that you never ceased to insult.
Our pajama day that we decided over our prom,
When we turned on John Mayer and slow danced in your room.
Your idea of a date consisted of fake wine and me.
How incredibly warm are the coldest of nights,
On the side of your dirt road as we lie in the snow that is too cold for comfort,
yet holds us there with the fear that one day will not look the same as this one
and I would bear any amount of cold winter to keep one more moment of yours.
How I cherish the way you latch my pinky with yours when we walk
And the face you don't know you make when you play guitar.
The rooftop where you kissed me for the very first time and the string rings
we wore to remind each other we were still there.
How incredibly and unfortunately devout I am to all that I remember of you.

Let me lie
On star dust covered sheets
White roses strewn around
Rest my hand near a protective heart
Where no menacing shadows abound

Allow me to inhale the incense of my lover
Across my body his mystical cover
Lay my head on calm broad chest
As the sun sets red and pink in the west

Placing my small hand in his
With my eyes I quietly plead
Unlock my red barbed chains
Catch me when I stumble and fall
Dance with me  in the pouring rain

Let me lie
On stardust covered sheets
White roses strewn around
With you forever my dearest love
Until the death of time

This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby  Jan.28, 2014

Trapped in a helium glow of iridescent isolation, in the terrifying grasp of convalescent irritation.
Nevertheless, it's the complex grin of a mechanical computation, not some abstract will of a medical complication, but the laborious equations of a most difficult accusation.
Now you can swim through a black hole, or ride a surfboard on a supernova, but a white dwarf star will slow down the ball speed of Anna Kournikova.
In an instant the universe could end, but it would be so fast we would not see until it came back again.
You think your real?
The sands of an hourglass steal the time you say, but you're the one that plays, no.
That expanded feeling you get, when you realize the universe as gotten larger...or made you smaller...in an attempt to understand its own creation, experiment after experiment.
One never thinks to understand their world until it is crushing down upon them, baring teeth, going for the ****; only then, is understanding important.
A trillion suns shine in a billion solar systems in a million galaxies and then some, but a single kiss from her lips, could break apart Calypso.
Within the dark matter, memories and patience lost, we have never diminished our flame of will.
Savage endings frayed in the  yesterday dust....memories twice scorned.

Can't you see the falling stars,
Their multiplying light,
They make their mark on the ever darkness,
Coursing gracefully through the night,
Into smoldering of an atmosphere,
That resists their every advance,
This is a star burning its life away,
Not merely courting or asking for a dance,
It is the most beautiful ending,
To a something unknown in a bursting brilliant light,
Never something unwanted,
But a wish in the still lonely night.
Seeing the magnificence as stars die in flight.

it stopped raining after
some long hour had passed
the rain had simply faded like
shawled figure moving through the afterlife
just the signature of presence evaporating into the still air
like the quiet thunder of a doves wings in the evening shadow

a sense of walking the day down through its years
a child at dawn full of promise and wonder
a man full of strife and the heat of passions at noon
an old man gasping by the witching hour
see the day walk its life to the tomb
before the grand spectacle of night has finished

and the very damp ground was littered with leaves
pulled from their high towers and cast down by
the winds strong hand
dirt in clinging clumps decorate the once
vividly clean surface of her lawn chairs
she pecks at the debris with a rapid motion
wipe away the inglorious world with
her chatter is subtle but not unfriendly
as she offers tea
the long hour passes
as we instilled with small conversation watch
the overcast slowly dissipates
like her charm
it is fleeting
she at last asks about your day
with hands folded in her lap like two neat doves
fearfully waiting to fly in panic at such slight provocations

the rain left its signature on my life
both beauty and troubled thoughts gather beneath its wet canopy
all reach life in the waters of the world
all rise from child and fall to tomb
like rain falls back to the earth which birthed it
we all return to the soil
thick and rich loam full of the savaged remains of the fallen
and the seeds of the yet unborn